


Silver Linings

by REINDOWN



Series: The Samurai Hunt [2]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Civil War, Drama, Execution, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Terrorism, Torture, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:59:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10067438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/REINDOWN/pseuds/REINDOWN
Summary: [sequel to Black Iridesence] The Samurai Hunt begins.





	1. SparrowHawk

**Author's Note:**

> You do really need to read BI before coming here. But don't worry if you haven't, because BI is one of my best works yet so I'm pretty proud of it ;) Go read that, then come back. See you soon!!

  
_[“-Breaking news. At around 11am, a man wielding a knife killed three people in Kabuki train station and wounded at least 2 others. He is said to have shouted 'to hell with the bakufu' amongst other terrorist remarks during the attacks, and one witness stated the man declared allegiance to the terrorist organisation, Skylark, which has claimed responsibility for at least three other similar attacks over the past six months. Ketsuno Ana is at the scene now. Kestuno-san?-”_

 _“Hello, I'm standing just metres from the place of the attack which has been cordoned off by the shinsengumi. The perpetrator is said to have escaped and surveillance images are being spread to help his capture. Please, if anyone sees this man, get in contact with the police immediately. Over there, we see Hijikata Toshiro who has only recently resumed action from his ordeal seven months ago. It is speculated that his disappearance, still unresolved by the police, could be connected to this extremist group.”_  
_“It seems ridiculous that this group have gone unpunished for all these crimes so far. Who are they and what are the police doing about this?”_

_“Skylark are formed from several high-profile samurai of the Great War and who are known to have affiliated with jouishishi extremist, Katsura Kotarou amongst others. They are presumed to have broken off from Katsura's faction and now engage in the extremist actions of today. The police are trying their best to establish names and faces of the group and discover their hideaway, however one amanto representative, Kristen of the Yellow Planet, claims their measures are not enough. In a recent interview, he hinted towards efforts to create a new faction of the police with the sole aim of eradicating terrorists and bringing past joui to justice.”_

_“Is that not the purpose of the shinsengumi?”_

_“This new organisation will be made up of amanto, rather than humans. More information will be coming about this new force over the coming days.”]_

* * *

 

  
_Though his brain was sending the correct messages, his legs weren't moving. They were stuck. Gintoki was running but it was never fast enough, like his legs were moving through treacle. He cried out in frustration – he needed to get there. If he couldn't use his legs ever again, he didn't care – he needed them now. He called again but everything was still so slow._  
_“Hijikata!” He shouted to the figure in the distance, using everything he had to run but it was so frustrating. He wasn't getting anywhere. The glimmers of street-lights were morphing into different shapes, crossing his path and then receding again, bubbling up like waves and then falling away. Each time they did so, he was no closer to Hijikata. A fear was setting in, something that froze his limbs up to his neck. He was able to see and to shout, but what good were his eyes when he couldn't reach Hijikata?_  
_“HIJIKATA!” Then, the distant figure turned. With agonising slowness, he faced Gintoki with the face of a skeleton. The boned fingers reached out to him and paralysed his legs until he stopped running. The thin wisps of skin remaining attached stretched across it's jaw as the skeleton smiled. Gintoki was repulsed, he couldn't help it, and the guilt he felt ached his chest. He needed to say something to stop Hijikata from knowing what he was thinking. He didn't want him to know just how sick his appearance was making him._  
_“I...” He began, searching for the right words. “Love you.” He said, knowing that it was a hideous, harrowing lie._

“Gintoki!” Gintoki's eyes snapped open and he sucked in a breath. First things first, he calmed his breathing and felt the slam of his heart grow weaker. He looked at Hijikata, who seemed worried from the small crease in his brow, then let a small smile to show he was okay. He lifted an arm and ran his palm down Hijikata's bare shoulder until it met the covers pulled over them.

“You okay?” Hijikata asked. He nodded, then continued to trace the rise and fall of bone across Hijikata's chest with gentle touches. He was so cold, always had been. Of the two, Gintoki was the human hot-water bottle and often Hijikata pressed his cold feet against him to warm them up. Today especially though, Hijikata was cold. Since he had barely any fat on him, he’d lay awake shivering most nights and eventually Gintoki had needed to invest in a heater. It was on low heat right now but he was still freezing. The sunlight was soft this morning and Gintoki could tell already that the weather was going to be good. The glow on his skin was warm and he could just feel the clear air inviting him. “Nightmare?”  
“Mmm,” he evaded the question. He knew what Hijikata was thinking and he didn't want to stray onto that subject.  
“About what?” He asked. Hijikata would never have asked before the incident. He must know, somehow, that Gintoki wasn't dreaming of the distant past any more. Maybe he was calling things out in his sleep – he hoped not. He didn't want Hijikata to know of his betraying thoughts. He felt like scum.  
“Doesn't matter.” He said, rolling onto his front to avoid further questions. It was a clear tactic, one Hijikata would undoubtedly see straight through, but then again it didn't let on that his nightmare was any different from the ones he used to have; Hijikata never found about about those either. Gintoki felt Hijikata shift on the bed awkwardly. He was thinking something, and that always set Gintoki on edge. Maybe it was because he always knew what he was thinking, and those things made him paranoid. A few minutes later, Gintoki wasn't far from dozing off again when he felt the cold press of fingertips across his lower back.

“What're you doing?” He grumbled as the fingers pressed away.  
“The divots in your back ...” Hijikata said, absent mindedly, “pressin' em.”  
“Why?”  
“I like em.” He replied and continued to press there. Gintoki groaned into the pillow and shifted his lower half so that it was more comfortable. The soft presses began to massage instead and Hijikata shuffled to adjust his position.  
“That's dangerous, you know.”  
“I know.” There was a smile in his voice. “Maybe I'm doing it on purpose.” And maybe Gintoki knew he was. He wasn't going to rise to the teasing though. They'd had sex since the incident, but Gintoki refrained from it more often than not. Hijikata still just felt so _breakable_ , and the difference of the body beneath his hands was something he couldn't get over. Hijikata must know it, too. Gintoki couldn't love Hijikata's new body in the same way he adored the old one. Despite that, he _had_ come a long way since then and he was even beginning to build muscle … yet it looked like a scrawny teenager's form and Gintoki just …. couldn't.

Hijikata's phone rang loud and saved Gintoki from having to find an excuse to get up and escape. Hijikata immediately abandoned the massage and picked up his mobile. It only took a few seconds of conversation for Gintoki to realise that it wasn’t good news. He had put on his officer voice and swearing punctuated each sentence. The frown on his face deepened and Gintoki was mildly disappointed when Hijikata got up to put on his uniform. When he hung up, Gintoki didn’t need to ask what was wrong.

“Another terrorist attack. At the train station. I'm heading out now.” Gintoki wasn’t going to tell him not to go, that he was too weak for any action - he knew better than that. Instead, he said,  
“Can you take the rubbish outside for me on your way? It's a recycling day.”  
“Do it yourself, you lazy bastard.” Hijikata replied and ripped away the duvet as he did so. Gintoki squirmed and wailed, hating the cold air that now enveloped him. He sent half-hearted kicks in Hijikata's direction, though none of them were aimed to hit. He'd probably snap an ankle by accident.

All these things were on his mind constantly. The situation between them had changed and they were both aware of it, just neither had the balls to bring it up. Their relationship was just so fragile now … but Gintoki needed it more than ever.

Hijikata waved casually as he left the room and once more Gintoki hid his grimace when he saw the way his trousers were loose and his jacket top hung from thin shoulders. He just had to keep telling himself that they were getting there.

They had to be.

* * *

 

 

“What the hell are you doing here, Zura?” Gintoki sighed, exasperated. He always ran into this fool in the weirdest of places. This time, Gintoki was wandering through the park to take a short cut and he had literally bumped into a huge bear. The bear turned out to have a voice and a hole in the mouth to see through. It didn’t take him long to click on who it was, especially when Elizabeth shuffled along behind.  
“It's not Zura,” Zura glanced around before lifting the head off the suit and freeing his hair with one graceful flick. “It's Kuma. I'm in disguise.”  
“And what about the duck?”  
“What do you mean, duck? Elizabeth is Elizabeth.”  
“I see.” He didn't. “And what about you?”  
“I'm a bear.” This wasn't getting him anywhere, as usual. Every conversation was a fight.  
“Why a bear?”  
“So I can blend in.”  
“With what?! The children's swings?!” He scratched his head and tried to wave away the headache that was on its way. “I don't want to get involved if you're trying to bomb something.”  
“No, I'm observing someone.” He looked around again. “But it seems he won't come here today.”  
“Maybe he did and ran away when he saw a giant fucking bear.” Zura's mouth widened into an 'o' and a light-bulb flickered.

  
They took to walking side by side in the direction Gintoki had been travelling, passing through the line of trees on either side. The park was empty this morning, which was unusual for the time of day. It created an eerie sort of atmosphere, a sense of emptiness in the air. Not even the birds were singing today.

“Anyway, Gintoki. How's the vice-commander?”  
“What makes you ask?”  
“We may be on opposite sides of the coin – that doesn’t make me heartless.” Zura shrugged; Gintoki immediately narrowed his eyes. He was picking up on something - he didn’t know what. He had always been adept at reading people and the crafty Zura was no exception.  
“You wouldn’t usually ask. I mean, he's in the news every few days. Surely you watch the news?”  
“Of course,” he nodded, taking to fiddling with the head of the bear and fluffing its fur. It was a distraction for him. What was he covering up for? Whatever it was, it wasn't something that Gintoki couldn't know. Zura was skilled at hiding things he wanted to, which could only mean that he was deliberating whether to tell Gintoki or not.  
“Were you … involved somehow?” Gintoki asked. Obviously, Zura wouldn't have been part of an act so disgraceful; Gintoki was just very good at pushing people's buttons.  
“No! Those guys were banned from my faction!” He exclaimed and immediately knew he'd said too much. Looking at Gintoki's expression, he definitely should have kept this to himself. Gintoki couldn't help the darkness that began to take hold of his mind. It was blurring his sense of control. This topic in particular was one he could not handle with a steady mind, even when he was talking to an old friend.   
“You know who did it?” His tone was dangerous and Zura began to wriggle uncomfortably.  
“I do.”  
“Did you know it was going to happen?” Ice cracked between them.  
“I knew they were capable of doing outrageous things, but I did not know of any specific plans.” He was choosing his words carefully. “Anyway, Gintoki, it's not what you think. You should be thankful to me.”

Gintoki's eyebrows shot up. Why would Gintoki need to be thankful? How could Zura be involved in this? If he had not been involved in the capture, how- … The conclusion he came to snapped his eyes open wide. He wasn't sure, but Zura seemed to be answering the one question Gintoki had harboured all this time.

How had he escaped?

“Were you the one who let Hijikata escape?” The lack of reply was answer enough. A lead ball dropped in his stomach. From the way Zura kept a stoic silence, he knew he was right. He owed Zura with more than just a thank you. This was worth every penny he'd ever earn, every hour he'd ever work … the value of that gesture meant oceans. Zura had saved Hijikata from torture. He had saved his life. “Wh..y?”  
“I should have kept a tighter surveillance on those criminals. Skylark were born from my faction – in a way, I am responsible. And, like I said, although we do not fight for the same cause, Hijikata is not a bad man. He didn’t deserve that.”

Gintoki hung his head. He had more words for Zura than he could ever string together. There was no coherence in his brain, just mumbled 'what if's. If Zura hadn't have done what he did …

“Zura,” he whispered. “I owe you my life.”   
He laughed gently. “Is that all?”   
“That and a parfait.”  
A smile edged into his cheeks. “I'll take the parfait.”

* * *

 

  
By the time Hijikata arrived at the scene, there wasn't much he could do. The regular police were on the search for the criminal and all the witnesses had already been taken to hospital for shock where they'd also be interviewed. He found himself stood around waiting for Kondo to declare it time to leave, itching his trousers up his hips a little more every few minutes. He was loath to ask for a smaller size.  
“Thought you were off-duty today?” Sougo commented, stepping beside him.  
“I was,” Hijikata exhaled smoke towards the sky, “I got called in.” Sougo clicked his tongue.

Hijikata ignored that and revelled in the taste of nicotine. He was strictly limited, not by his doctor, but by Gintoki who now hated the thought of him anywhere near a cigarette. He wasn't at any specific risk by doing it, just Gintoki was mollycoddling him nowadays. That was enough to make him frown. To be honest, he didn't have as many withdrawal symptoms now. After all, he had gone four months without a single fag. Smoking would always be something he enjoyed. Lighting a cigarette when he was thinking helped him concentrate. Or maybe it didn't, it just felt like it did.

“Your boyfriend not stalking you today?” Yes, he had been doing that.  
“Seems not.” Hijikata replied bitterly. It was another thing Gintoki had taken to doing. He'd find any excuse to be within proximity of Hijikata. He was sure it wasn't a needy thing, it was to calm his nerves. At first, it had put him at ease to have him around. Eventually, it became undignified. And distracting. Gintoki really didn’t need to keep checking on him.  
“Maybe he's just gotten really good at it.”  
“Maybe he's found himself a life.”  
“You know him better than that.”  
“Do I?” It hadn't meant to come out, but he'd said it anyway. Because recently, Gintoki hadn't been himself. By 'himself', that meant the laid-back idiot he usually was. Most of the time now, Gintoki was highly strung. He was constantly thinking of something. Hijikata could see his mind wander away and a frown would darken his brow. He was paranoid and edgy, never comfortable when he was outside with Hijikata or doing any sort of remotely active activity. He worried and whined, never aloud, just written blatantly on his face as though Hijikata couldn’t see it as starkly as he could. The few times he relaxed was when they were simply sat, chatting. In those moments, everything returned to how things used to be. Hijikata had never considered himself high maintenance …

Right now though, he seemed to be _draining_. Draining the life out of his lover. He tried to touch Gintoki, hold him, make him feel at ease. Instead, it was just like coiling a spring and horrifyingly, each time he did so, Gintoki just seemed more tense. There was nothing he could do for him. Nothing he could do but sit in an iron box all day, sipping water and eating until he returned to the person he used to be. Even then, would Gintoki be able to let go of what had happened?

Of course he wouldn’t. He still dreamed of a time over ten years ago when he had been forced to kill his teacher. If he could hold onto that for as long as he had, he sure could continue to be haunted by the events of this year. And yet, Gintoki didn’t talk about any of this. And if he didn’t bring it up, Hijikata couldn’t ask all the things he wanted to know.

 _Do you blame yourself?_  
 _  
Do you hate my body now?_  
 _  
Are you nervous around me?_  
 __  
… Do you still love me?

Yet Hijikata … already felt he knew the answers.

 

“We've got a better print-out of the assailant.” Yamazaki ran over and presented the sheet to Sougo who cast a lazy glance at it.  
“At least he has some recognisable features.”  
“They could be prosthetic. Lemme see,” Hijikata took the sheet from him and straightened it. The moment he set eye on the criminal, his heart began to pound uncontrollably. Sougo cocked his head to the side and watched.  
Oblivious to Hijikata's silence, Yamazaki began to point to the sheet: “The scar here runs from his lower lip down to his chin. It appears as though his lip had been cut open and then stitched up – it's a big give-away if it's real.”

Hijikata thrust the paper away from him and back to Yamazaki. Holding the paper scorched his fingertips. If he held onto it for much longer, everyone would be able to see the shake in his hands. He knew instinctively that this man had been involved in his capture. He didn't need to have any memory of that to be shook by innate fear right down into the marrow of his bones. That face had been registered with his entire soul – he wouldn't make a mistake like this.

“Skylark,” Sougo mumbled. Hijikata flinched and his eyes shot over to meet Sougo's. “Says he's a part of the group but they haven't claimed absolute responsibility yet.”  
“A-ah, no.” It was obvious that Sougo was probing but Hijikata was reluctant to let his fear show. They could solve this case without delving further into _the incident_. “It won't take them long though. Yamazaki, distribute this picture to the media and police force.”  
“Yes sir.”  
“Sougo, what are your plans next?”  
“Hmm, let's see,” he pulled out a notebook from his pocket and flipped through the pages. “Glue the soles of Hijikata's shoes, apply black shoe polish to his binoculars, apply a waxing strip to his eyebrows when he's sleeping-”  
“I'll kill you, you fox-like bastard.”  
“Also on the list for today is to see danna.” He finished and began to cross a few notes off with a pen. Eyebrows raised, Hijikata allowed the cigarette in his mouth to drop away. He quickly stubbed it out with his boot and coughed, “why?” Innocent red eyes blinked back at him.  
“Just for a catch up.”

* * *

 

 

_[“The name of The Station Murderer has been released by police, along with images of his profile. Masahiro Fuse was last seen in CCTV footage entering a waiting vehicle outside of the station directly after the incident. This vehicle was found two days later, abandoned outside of Kabuki. Police have also revealed the names of other known conspirators, including: …. These men should be avoided as far as possible and immediately reported to the police._   
_New information has been revealed regarding the anti-terrorist justice organisation, now known as SparrowHawk. Ambassador Kristen has stated that the group is already compiling a list of samurai who have escaped the justice system, including the larger names such as Katsura Kotaro, members of Skylark and any other known joui. The group will consist of ex-military amanto from across the universe. They will team up with the shinsengumi to meet their goal of 'ending terrorism for good in Edo'.”]_


	2. Where Talons Reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you check you've read the first chapter: I've updated it.
> 
> Now continue!

“I knew this wouldn't be good the moment you called me out,” Gintoki moaned, forking out the last remaining coins in his wallet to pay for the dango he had just inhaled.  
“You lost at rock, paper, scissors. So you pay the price.”  
“Literally,” Gintoki complained. “Haven't you stolen enough from me, tax-robber? Anyway, how do you always win at rock, paper scissors?”  
“It's a game of strategy, not chance.” Sougo shrugged and licked the chocolate from his fingertips. Gintoki wept into his wallet for a few minutes, wafting away the dust that billowed out of it in despair. Sougo munched away on his final dango with his usual poker-face. Once he finished, he wiped his hands on Gintoki's yukata whilst he was distracted and sighed contentedly. “So,” he began, “what are you going to do?”  
“About what?”  
“I'm sure you've seen the news.” He had. He knew what the discussion was about and he'd basically avoided thinking about it for the past week. Hear no evil and there is no evil, as far as he was concerned. “Give it two days and your name will be top of the list,” Sougo commented and deftly avoided Gintoki's attempt to cover his mouth.  
“I don't wanna think about it.”  
“You'll be locked up, at minimum. At most ...”  
“I said I don't want to think about it,” he wailed, kicking his feet in protest. “All this shit was supposed to be done and put away with. Why are they stirring it back up? Didn’t their mothers teach them to forgive?”  
“Kristen lost more than half his army during the war. He's still a bit pissed at us samurai.”  
“I figured. I remember booting his troops so hard they orbited Saturn twice.”  
“Like I said, top of the list.” Sougo twirled the wooden dango stick between his fingers. He let it roll a few times, then snapped it in half. Gintoki winced. “So, what are you going to do?”  
“Ignore my problems until they go away.”  
“Clearly Hijikata hasn't pieced two and two together yet.”  
“He has other things on his mind at the moment.” And Gintoki was grateful for that.  
“In all seriousness,” Sougo held firm eye-contact with him and even looked slightly concerned, “if you don't get out of kabuki soon, you'll be taken. This force is only temporary, if you escape for now, it'll all die down again.”  
“You know I'm not going anywhere.” Gintoki replied. The glow of the sun on his face and the buzz of people energised him, the sense of familiarity and warmth was unheard-of anywhere else. How could he leave?  
“I didn't think you would.” And Gintoki knew that was true. “So I'm asking, what are you going to do? If you fight them, you'll become even more of a criminal. If you let them take you ...”  
“Don't worry your little head,” he patted Sougo's soft, brown hair with one hand and smiled as broadly as he could. “I'll figure something out.”

Sougo looked like he wanted to say something and his mouth twisted a little. In the end, they parted ways without those words passing between them. He didn't know if that was for better or worse.

* * *

 

  
_[“This afternoon, the terrorist group Skylark claimed responsibility for the attack on Kabuki train station with a chilling online video message to the newly formed SparrowHawk. The video showed masked samurai discussing their further intent to destroy the bakufu. They gave no detail, but hinted at future attacks like this one. In response, General Kristen, as he is now recognised, publicly released the list of samurai his team are hunting down. He made no comment on this when we questioned him earlier this evening.”]_

* * *

 

  
Hijikata looked at himself in the mirror.

He hadn't looked at himself for two weeks following the incident and after that shock, he'd removed anything reflective from his room. He didn't even like unsheathing his katana because the glistening silver reflected someone weak. Even now, he wasn't used to looking at his new body. More than half a year on and he still felt sick looking at the vulnerable frame staring back at him with empty eyes. He had decided to punish himself by looking once a day now. He'd force himself to take in that scrawny, completely unattractive bag of bones every day, and with each look he'd fuel himself with desire to be how he was again.

It was a long road, though.

All his muscle had wasted away and he was only just getting it back. His record number of consecutive push ups had literally returned to the starting point. He was struggling through nine at the minute, and each day tried for ten. When he got to ten, he would curse himself until he got eleven. And he'd never be satisfied. Never.

He hadn't fought since that day, either. Well, he had duelled once with Yamazaki and been so utterly humiliated as his opponent actually took the effort to lower the power of his blows; he vowed never to try again. Not until he was stronger than ever. The look in Yamazaki's eyes had been terrifying: had he really become so weak that even Zaki could show disappointment? There was somebody else's eyes he was unwilling to meet, too.

His useless arms, scrawny legs, flat and un-toned stomach, pecs level with his ribs, his weak grip and breakable wrists … Of course Gintoki would be disgusted by it. He just hadn't ever anticipated just _how_ unattractive he had become to him. The point where he'd … close his eyes when they had sex.

Was he really that grotesque?

He turned away from the mirror and picked up a training bokuto, gripping it as firmly as he could with eyes flashing determinedly. Hijikata was going to get stronger. He needed to. The image of Gintoki that time doing anything but look down at him burned red in his memory. He remembered when Gintoki would kiss his thighs, taste his neck, trace his stomach with his lips and love him all over … those days were not lost. He would get them back. Along with the prideful eyes of Kondo and the admiration of his subordinates, and Sougo would return to his high-level assassination attempts not these pitiful pranks, and criminals would show him pure terror once more.

One more swing. One more push up. One more run. Swing harder. Run faster. Get it all back. Get it all back. Get it all back.

* * *

 

  
“You make the phone call!” Kondo pushed the device towards Sougo.  
“Eh, me?” Sougo blinked. “Is that okay?”  
Yamazaki scrambled to take it off him, “Of course it's not! Commander, how could you leave something like that to the captain!”  
“What's wrong? I was going to get straight to the point!”  
“You'll give danna a heart attack. Commander, please phone him yourself.” Kondo squirmed. Sougo offered out his hand but Yamazaki was as stubborn as he dared to be.  
“I don't want to call him,” the commander complained and wobbled his bottom lip, “What if I say something wrong?”  
“It has to be a lot better than how ever Okita-taicho was planning to break the news.” He sighed, exhausted. “Fine, let me call him.”  
“Is that okay, Zaki?!” Kondo's eyes glittered gratefully.

The phone rang in his hand and Yamazaki tried to ignore Sougo when he clicked his teeth in irritation. The ringing stopped, but there was a scrambling and yelling on the other end before a female voice responded, “Who is it?” _{Kagura, get off my face! That hurts!}_  
“It's Yamazaki, can I speak to danna?” The girl clicked her tongue in eerily the same way as Sougo, blowing air through her lips in blatant annoyance.  
_{It's for you, smelly.}_  
_{Don't hit me with the – OUCH. YOU- … I'LL BREAK YOUR STUPID FINGERS, KID! I DON'T HAVE MERCY FOR LITTLE BRATS, YOU KNOW!}_  
“Hello?” Eventually, the shouting died away.  
“It's me, Yamazaki.”  
“Oh, Jimmy. What's up?”  
“Just thought we'd let you know, uh …” He hadn't meant to leave an awkward silence but he was unable to find the right way to say what he needed to. Sougo took the opportunity to snatch the phone.  
“Danna, Hijikata nearly killed himself-”  
“TAICHOU!” Yamazaki complained. “I was trying to break the news nicely!”  
“Eh?” Gintoki's voice was small and Yamazaki hastened to correct the situation.  
“Ah, no, what happened is he had a small fit. He says he remembered something and we think it was a panic attack. We found him early enough to calm him down and he's resting up in bed for now.”  
“...”  
“You can come and see him if you want. He's absolutely fine though. It was only a small episode, not like before.”  
“I see.” He really wasn't giving much back. Yamazaki couldn't judge his expression.  
“Is that … okay?”  
“Ah, yeah ...” he mumbled. “Thanks for letting me know.”  
“You're welcome ...”  
“Then, bye bye.”  
“Bye.”

The line cut off.

“So?” Kondo looked hopeful.  
“Did he have a heart attack?” Sougo asked, innocently.  
“I really wish I could hit you, captain.”

 

* * *

  
“Is the vice-commander not here?” Kristen boomed across the room as he scanned the rows of people seated before him.  
“Our vice-commander isn't well. I hope you will understand, General.” Kondo got to his feet. He gave a small bow which was not reciprocated by the amanto. Instead, the huge alien sneered. He stood at 2 metres tall and was an intimidating figure of bulk and muscle. His skin was a clay colour, marked with dark patterns like tiger stripes which banded his biceps. Kondo couldn’t help but freeze up whenever his glowing golden globes made eye-contact. It was even worse because Tosshi wasn't there – he usually made quick work of intimidating others, too. Quite often, hard-headed, cocky individuals tried to assert power over the shinsengumi and Tosshi was always the set of icy blue eyes that put them in their place … Not any more.

“We'll begin without him, then.” Kristen cracked a few fingers and took centre stage in the room of officials and high-ranking officers. He made careful eye-contact with each person and amanto. There weren't many who could return his gaze without breaking it: in fact, there were only two. Matsudaira, who returned the glare over the top of his dark sunglasses, and Sougo, who took the opportunity to blow chewing gum bubbles until they popped. “I'm going to go over the details of SparrowHawk, an organisation designed to put an end to those rebels. The members of Skylark have all been made apparent to you and those are our main targets. I cannot make the list of our own members public for their safety ...” He paused meaningfully. “It's not that I don't trust you.” Matsudaira laughed under his breath. “But SparrowHawk must be protected at all costs.”  
“Isn't it the job of the shinsengumi to defeat terrorists?” One government official dared to speak up. Kristen turned on him.  
“And look where that got us.” He said, and the tension in the room became 100 degrees hotter. It wasn't just Matsudaira now, Sougo and Kondo were both sitting straighter. Sougo dared Kristen with his eyes – dared him to cross that line again. Between swordsmen, a sixth sense for hostility is learned and honed. In that moment, Kristen was picking up on several molten-hot daggers burning his way. The space between their palms and the hilt of their katana shortened unconsciously. “SparrowHawk can't be made public. The incident with Hijikata is proof of that. You only have to look at him.”  
“I hope you have no ill intent behind those words,” Kondo made his voice careful and clear.  
Kristen barely flicked his eyes over and grunted, “Of course not.” He didn't seem sincere at all, and though Kondo couldn't argue against his words, that didn't mean he liked them. “Moving on. We have comprised a list of targets based on their past convictions against the peace between humans and amanto. This information was put together from police records, shinsengumi articles and outside sources. Their names and whereabouts have been ascertained prior to this meeting. Consequently, I can support their accuracy.”  
“Here we go,” Sougo muttered with apprehension. Kondo blinked at him. “It's a good job Hijikata-san wasn't able to make it.” It was at that moment that the pieces clicked together in Kondo's head and his eyes flashed open. He glanced at Sougo in poorly concealed panic.

“I shall go down the names in order of risk. Obviously, top of this list is the rebel Katsura Kotaro, whom the shinsengumi have failed to capture on numerous occasions. He is known to still be residing in Edo and conducting terrorist acts as part of a group. Secondly, ...” Kristen continued down the list of well-known rebels, detailing their whereabouts and displaying their pictures on a large screen behind him. Sougo waited anxiously for the inevitable. Hopefully, he had passed under the radar. Hopefully, the records still considered him executed. Hopefully-  
“Next is the Shiroyasha.” Sougo's mouth dried out. He found it hard to swallow. “Known for killing thousands of amanto and government soldiers during the war, as well as being the front-runner for the majority of counter-operations and the brains behind many destructive missions, the Shiroyasha has somehow gone unpunished.”  
“I thought the Shiroyasha was executed in the war?” One individual spoke, amongst the whispers of others. The shinsengumi tightened their lips.  
“No, the Shiroyasha escaped execution and continues to live in Kabuki district. His name is Sakata Gintoki. How this demon has managed to go unpunished by the shinsengumi, I have no idea,” Kristen didn't hide the aggression in his tone, but he was supported now by a flurry of angry grunts around the room. He didn't need to play nice any more. “What have you been doing all this time, Kondo? Instead of fighting the terrorists, have you been drinking alcohol with them? Have you been playing card games?”  
“If only he knew,” Sougo snorted dryly.

Kondo pursed his lips – this was no time to be laughing. Not only was Gintoki in danger, the whole shinsengumi could be broken apart if word got out about their relationship with the yorozuya. More specifically, Hijikata's relationship with him. He had to hope that it was only a joke. If Kristen knew that they'd not only been drinking and playing cards but _sleeping_ with the Shiroyasha … That'd be it for the Shinsengumi. And he couldn't let that happen.

 

* * *

  
_[“... It was only the second day of operation for SparrowHawk, yet they managed to capture three of their top 30 joui affiliates in so little time. General Kristen claimed that this list, also known as the Deferred Justice System (DJS), would be almost surely completed within the next six months.”]_

 

* * *

  
“You've still got bambi legs, huh?” Gintoki frowned as Hijikata stumbled over a shoe that had been left lying around (just waiting to be tripped on, according to Hijikata).  
“Shat up.” He complained. “I might have exercised a bit too much, but other than that I'm fine.”  
“Then that's good.” Gintoki hummed. They shuffled into the apartment living room where Gintoki resumed munching on the bag of crisps he had left on the table. Hijikata brushed away the salt. He had a habit of cleaning up Gintoki's mess and it had become so ingrained in him that he didn't even notice he was doing it any more. Cushion on the floor? He'd pick it up. Rubbish lying around? In the bin it went. Out of date food in the fridge? That was also thrown away. It wasn't even his apartment. He was still a guest, but he assumed Gintoki had no concept of 'guests'. Or maybe just manners.

“Anyway, don't bite my head off for asking, but are you okay?” Hijikata scowled beneath his bangs.  
“Fine.”  
“I did say _don't_ bite my head off.”  
“I didn't.”  
“It felt like it.” Gintoki sprawled across the sofa and let his partner sink down next to him, automatically wrapping one arm around Hijikata's shoulders as he always did. One hand dipped back into the packet again and arose with a handful of crisps.  
“I'm fed up of people asking.” Hijikata made sure to steal one just before it entered his mouth.  
“Yeah but you can see why we do.” He nudged Hijikata, who huffed. “Aren't you meant to be teaming up with the aliens to end terrorism?”  
“I was meant to go but Kondo-san wouldn't let me after I felt dizzy yesterday.” Gintoki didn't hide his snort and nearly choked on a crisp.  
“ _Dizzy?_ ” he sneered, incredulously, “You had a panic attack and collapsed.”  
“I wish you'd stop making a big deal out of everything.” The empty bag of crisps was slung into Hijikata's face.  
“I'll hit you, victim of abuse or not.” Gintoki warned, baring his salt covered fist to make a point.  
“There's nothing you can do to me. Not now that I know you're ticklish. Your weakness has been exposed.” He wiggled his fingers.  
“We made a pact.”  
“We did no such thing.”  
“That's genuine betrayal.”  
Hijikata shrugged. “Bite me.” And it wasn't that surprising to him when Gintoki did, leaning forward in a flash to gently nip at his neck. “Again.” He ordered, making Gintoki laugh. He didn't go for another bite, instead stretching out like a cat and letting out a small grunt of contentment. Another long day of doing nothing. The morning had been spent wandering around Kabuki with Hijikata, basically using up his wallet by trying every food stall they passed. The afternoon was now theirs. And they had no plans for how to use it.

“I want to watch something.”  
“We're not sitting and watching another one of your shitty dramas.”  
“Fine,” Gintoki pouted. “What do you want to do?”  
“We don't have to do anything. Let's just talk.”  
Gintoki gave him a look of dismay. “ _Talk?_ ”  
“What the hell's wrong with just wanting to talk?!” Hijikata slapped the disgusted look from Gintoki's face. Gintoki was about to hit back when a few wiggled fingers near his sides stopped him abruptly. He wasn't liking this blackmail.  
“About what?”  
“If you plan what you talk about, it ruins the conversation. What we're doing now is just fine.”  
“But we're .. arguing?” He frowned. A fist pummelled into his side. “Look, you're even hitting me.”  
“I always hit you.”  
“That's not something you should be proud of,” he snorted back and gave his hair a ruffle. Hijikata couldn't hide his contempt:  
“I wish ya'd stop doing that!” he yelled, combing fingers through his hair to correct the bed head it had given him. “You do that to your kids! It's friggin' patronising.”  
“It's affectionate.” They battled hands above Hijikata's head, Gintoki fluffing his soft locks and Hijikata fighting to bite his fingers. It wasn't until he actually managed to that the real dispute began, starting with a disgruntled Gintoki pinning the smaller man beneath him on the sofa. They grunted and swore, Gintoki being careful not to hurt the narrow frame he was battling with and Hijikata doing anything in his power to free his hands. If he could just free them …  
“Hee!-” Gintoki squealed as deft fingertips dug into his ribs. Immediately he was on the defensive which gave Hijikata both hands to work with. It had been an accident, finding out that Gintoki was highly ticklish, but it was definitely a good accident. It gave him the power to subdue Gintoki in any situation and having him somewhere between pain and pleasure was delicious. It wasn't long before he was a trembling mess beneath Hijikata's fingers, wailing for him to stop with tears pricking his eyes but a smile on his face. It was much too fun to stop, especially when Gintoki was laughing the way he was (and screaming but he could ignore that).

They fell from the sofa with a heavy thud and Gintoki was scrambling to escape. Hands on his hips held him down. “We're not in play-school!” Gintoki cried out between yells of pain. “Stop it you- EHHHK!” Gintoki reached behind him – he was now laid out on his stomach – and managed to grab Hijikata's hand. It was game over quickly, but Gintoki wasn't satisfied without revenge. He huffed and shook his hair from his eyes, grinning as broadly as his lips would allow until Hijikata gulped. In his breathless state, he kissed Hijikata. And again. And then once more with ferocious intent, hot mouth searching his until they became lost in time. It could have been a minute passed; it could have been ten. Whatever had just happened in that blur, what was going to happen next was clear when Hijikata reached down a hand to cup his cheek. His cool fingers deliberating trailed Gintoki's skin to the zip of his t-shirt. And carefully, -

**CRASH!!**

Hijikata was the quickest onto his feet but Gintoki wasn’t more than a second after. The intruders didn't take their time, either. They were in the room and charging towards the both of them before Gintoki could even get a grip on his bokuto. There was already a protective sword gleaming ahead - Hijikata braced himself for conflict. The words, 'who are you?' sat on his tongue but he discarded them quickly; he could tell these people weren't there for a chat, and with just the two of them, they didn't have the time to do more than catch their breaths. He observed they were amanto with the first clash of swords. They had grey skin and were far larger than most humans. At the second clash of steel, he noticed it was not steel at all and an electric charge of a taser buzzed through him in the fraction of a second they made contact. His hand burned for seconds afterwards. They had to avoid using swords. He glanced to his right where he expected to find Gintoki and was shocked so much by his absence that he was too distracted to notice the fist heading for his gut. He was down. He couldn't breathe. But through all that, he was searching for Gintoki, trying to see through his swimming eyes.

“Shiroyasha! Give yourself up quietly!” One amanto commanded and something electrical hissed loudly by Hijikata's ear. He had his breath back now but there was a foot on his back … and humiliatingly, disgracefully, he hadn't the strength to remove it. He was weak! So _weak_! He could feel it in his arms, his shaking, burning limbs. The futility was horrifying and even though he wasn't giving in, his chest barely left the floor as he pushed with everything he had.  
“Stop it, Hijikata,” the voice was soft and dizzying.  
“Gin... toki?!” He managed to strain his neck enough to see him and he was standing still, hesitating. Why was he hesitating?  
“We are SparrowHawk and we've come to arrest you for your crimes against peace. You can come quietly and be given the chance to say your last words, or you can struggle and I'll take your life right now.” This was wrong. It had to be. Something had gone wrong somewhere. Where had he made a mistake? When had he taken the wrong path for everything to become so fucked up?!  
“Oi, oi,” Gintoki said, as laid-back as ever, the familiar confidence stabbing Hijikata right in the chest. “You're a bit late, aren't you?” Hijikata struggled to get up once more, resisting till his bones ached.  
“What's your decision, terrorist?” The amanto (seemingly in charge) grunted. He spat the words like they were poison and that angered Hijikata – who the hell was he to look down on Gintoki?! Speaking of whom, their eyes met and Hijikata was not expecting to see the deliberation he did there. _What's wrong? Draw your sword!_  he thought, furiously. If he gave in here, he'd be ex-... executed. Gintoki softened his eyes and his intentions were made so clear that it made Hijikata sick.  
“Gintoki?” His voice cracked.   
“That's right, vice-commander!” Gintoki rose his voice and Hijikata's voice-box shrunk away. “I'm the Shiroyasha.” He declared. “That's the only reason I got close to you.” What sort of a theatre performance was this? Hijikata was about to spit at him. _Don't try fooling me with your lies._ Then he realised the lie wasn't directed at _him_.

And as Gintoki was handcuffed and taken away, he remained on the floor trembling. He felt numb. The boot on his back lifted away. The handcuffs clinked. He choked on a shaky breath.

“See you later,” Gintoki called warmly.

To hell with your kindness.


	3. Cracked Shells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's here!

He was gone. Hijikata was shaking all over until his teeth chattered; he desperately clamped them shut. His fingernails splintered the wooden floor as he clenched his fists into tight, white balls. His breathing was irregular, stalling. It was fast – so fast that oxygen didn't seem to be reaching his head and he felt dizzy. Why was he still laying there? He had to get him back. Fingers bloodied and sore, he scampered to the front door which was now just an open wound to the house. Without pausing to grasp his shoes, Hijikata dashed down the stairs and into the street. Damn, he wished he could see past all those stars. He searched up and down the street but the dark blanket falling across his vision impaired him. Where was he? Where?! He couldn't let him go. He stumbled but he'd be damned if he fainted now. He followed his gut and headed right, stumbling on heavy feet and still it felt like the wind had been sucked out of him. He must have crashed into three people already because it was just so hard to stay balanced. Maybe he could if he stood still; no, that was not an option. He'd forge onwards – literally blind – because he could not lose him.

He'd be killed.

Damn, damn, damn. Why had things turned out like this? Why was Gintoki labelled a criminal and Hijikata, justice? The two of them were the same. They had killed people, they had saved people, they had loved and hurt people, they were human. What right did they have to take him away? They didn't. And Hijikata was going to use all his power to free Gintoki. He needed him. What would he do without him? He was kind, so criminally kind; he'd throw himself into the noose to protect his family. Even though he was a selfish bastard who'd eat the last mochi without offering it out, even though he'd use every last penny of someone else's and then not thank them, Gintoki was altruistic beyond repair – right down to his DNA. And he was intelligent when he wanted to be. And funny. And sweet. And forgiving. And modest. And he could set Hijikata's blood pumping with a smile.

Hijikata imagined the black hood lowering over Gintoki's eyes and collapsed onto his hands and knees. He couldn't help the wheezes, the whines that escaped his mouth as his breathing escalated into choking. Something was coming out of his mouth but he knew he hadn't thrown up. A hand on his back, he didn't know whose, and questions dancing through his ears. Voices circling him. People crowding him in a dark fencing on all sides. Closing in. They were touching him.

“STOP!”

He didn't want them touching him. He could feel heat on his feet. Burning. Fire. Flames. Then the soft drip, drip, drip of water. Drip. Drip. Drip. DRIP. DRIP. DRIPDRIPDRIP.

“STOP IT!”

A huge ocean of water washed over him, cold and thick, filling his mouth, then his throat, then his lungs until he choked hard but was left without air to breathe back in. The weight on the back of his head was unrelenting, freezing him there until sheer panic surged through his very blood. He needed to breathe. He needed to breathe. He needed to breathe!

“Mr Policeman?” A familiar voice mumbled from above the surface. The sound of the waves began to fade; they retreated back to the light. It called him to the earth under his fingers. Gintoki? “Did you have too much to drink, ooooi~?” His breathing slowed until it was manageable. He had the strength to look up, taking in two curious blue eyes and a head of orange hair. “You look awful.”  
“K-... Kagura?”  
“Want to come in and sober up, useless human being?”  
“Where's … Where's Gintoki?!”  
“Gin-chan?” Kagura looked puzzled. “Wasn't he with you? I mean, he was all bubbly last night telling me all sorts of things I didn't care about. Like where you two were going, what he wanted to eat... It was truly sickening.”  
“He was … taken ...” Hijikata began to reach for his phone on impulse. He was beginning to think logically. Call Kondo. He needed to tell him. Hijikata worked for the police, for Christ's sake. He could let a petty criminal off the hook. He'd sell himself to the goddamn shogun if he had to. The shogun! “K-kagura! Didn't the yorozuya meet with the shogun?!”  
“Sho-chan? Yeah, we got him blind drunk and stripped him to his mini-shogun. What's wrong?”  
“I need to speak to him! I need to -!”  
“Oi!” Kagura yelled as he dropped forwards. She managed to catch him by the collar before he hit the floor. He was exhausted. He felt light-headed. Yet even so, he was dialling Kondo's number on instinct and pressed the phone to his ear. “What happened to Gin-chan?!” Kagura shook him hard, seeming to have caught onto the urgency of the situation. Hijikata, feeling much more composed, met her eyes bluntly:  
“He has been taken for execution. Come on, we're going to my barracks.”

* * *

 

“This looks bad, Katsura-san.” Katsura put down the novel he had been reading half-heartedly. The talk of the men around him stunted his reading ability and he found himself distracted by their chatter. “They've already taken down three extremists.”  
“We're not extremists, we're joui.”  
“Joui extremists.”  
“With any luck,” Katsura ignored him and began to fold the book back up, taking care to slip a scrap of paper between the open pages, “the bakufu really will take out Skylark.”  
“What?” One of his men frowned. “What do you mean? Aren't they on our side?”  
“I banished them from my faction because of their actions. Those guys have been twisted by the need for revenge, rather than the will to do good. They just want to see everyone related to the bakufu burned. We, on the other hand, are the jouishishi.”  
“Still, we share the same enemies?”  
“But more importantly, not the same methods.” Katsura lectured, using his finger to emphasise his words. “If you side with them, then you agree with the inhumane torture they put the vice-commander of the shinsengumi through?”  
“W-well,” the man stammered, “No, but ...”  
“The ends do not justify the means. We're not a peaceful organisation, but we will not commit evil to get what we desire.”  
“I … understand.”  
“But, Katsura-san,” another member piped up, “why did you ban them? You kicked them out _before_ the incident with the vice-commander. Something must have happened.” Katsura nodded, allowing his eyes to fall to the floor as he sunk into thought. He recalled it with startling clarity, specifically so because it served as the focal point for his recent guilts. Katsura had known the lengths that Skylark would go to. Because he had not done anything about it, they had committed such an act. As a result, Katsura had inadvertently participated in hurting his friend, as well as endangering everyone he worked with. The incident with Hijikata had spurred an extremist movement against the joui, one which made their plight even harder. Katsura's head had always been on the chopping board, but now his comrades were also being hunted like deer.

His stomach twinged a little. Gintoki had been angrier than Katsura ever recalled seeing him. He didn't know the specifics, but he knew that Gintoki had gotten close to the vice-commander. To the point where he had made _that_ face … He knew he needed to act, not just to redeem himself but to protect his bushido.

The day he had discovered the lengths Skylark would go to had shaken his resolve. The group had come to him with a perfectly formulated plan to capture and maul the wife and daughter of a government official with no real goal in mind. They listed the possible benefits: torture would reveal information they knew; bargaining material etc. However, the thing that struck Katsura the most was that these were sideline benefits and it was blatantly clear that these men were deriving pleasure from torturing an innocent woman and her teenage daughter. That their revenge could cause so much pain, it thrilled them.

Katsura could no longer see his men as fellows. He began to suspect that some of his men were not following him for the glory of restoring their nation – something that should have occurred to him before now was that some of these men were _insane_. They were not passionate for change, but to satisfy their traumas of the war. Revenge was high on their agenda, and peace didn't even rank. He already knew that his men had lost wives and children, brothers and mothers in the battle against the amanto … they had suffered torturous events, as had he. Yet, never in his years of terrorism, had he suspected his men of ill intent. Never, ever, had he considered his brethren bad people.

Until now.

And it turned out that flushing his organisation of these men was not a way to be rid of them. Karma was a nasty existence.

“Katsura-san! Phone call!”  
“What do you mean, phone call? No one should have my number!”  
“He says he's from the yorozuya.”  
“Pass it me.” He instructed instantly. Gintoki never called. In fact, Katsura had wondered if Gintoki had even bothered to keep the memo with his number on, despite the effort that had gone into that chibi drawing of Elizabeth in the corner. “Hello?”  
“It's Shinpachi.” The voice said. He sounded meek. “Gin-san has been taken by SparrowHawk. Katsura-san … t-they're going to execute him.” The voice fell silent. “Katsura-san … please, help us.”  
“Stay strong, my friend.” He replied as calmly as he could possibly manage. “I'll send someone to pick you up.”

* * *

 

Gintoki had seen plenty of cells before, mostly from the inside. This particular one was a shoddy excuse of a prison. He was cramped into a small container-like space, a battery hen ready to be exploited. Other criminals (though the meaning of that word had become much looser) surrounded him on literally all sides: there was a man above him that kept banging on the floor and shouting nonsense. It had been a bit intimidating at first, now though, it was like being stuck in front of a kid on an aeroplane. _Thud. Thud. Thud._ Pointless chatter. _Thud. Thud_. More shouting. And if that kid didn't stop kicking his seat, Gintoki was going to punch him so hard, he'd return to his mother's womb.

One by one, they were being extracted from their cells and 'interviewed'. Some of them came back in worse shape than others, but all of them had added a few bruises to their skin pallet. Basically, the message was: do what we say and you won't get hurt. Yet. He'd seen it all before. If you told them what they wanted to know, admitted to your sins and minded your please and thank you's, they'd go easy on you. If you caused trouble, you'd get what was coming to you. Human rights ceased to exist when you were a terrorist, guilty or not. The problem was, Gintoki knew himself to be a stubborn person, regardless of the threat to keeping all his teeth. The only surprising aspect for Gintoki at the moment was Zura's absence. That guy had been round enough prisons to start a review service and especially liked to turn up when Gintoki had gotten himself into mischief. He was also a very slippery man, which meant as easily as he slipped into jail, he could slip back out. One of his most useful talents. It wouldn't be long until the guy started interfering anyway – he wouldn't stand by as his comrades are incarcerated.

The bloke in the cell next to Gintoki's had just returned silently to his pit, and Gintoki got the feeling it wouldn't be long until they squeezed him out of his cell. He needed to get his story straight before then: there was a lot at stake. And a huge part of that required him to predict what was going on outside …

The whole thing was such a pain.

Obviously, the fact that he'd been linked to so many shinsengumi missions would be revealed. They'd get a slap on the wrist for letting a terrorist help them so often. If that was as far as it went, Gintoki would be relieved. And surprised. How explicit had his relationship with Hijikata been? Would they find out? And if so, did he go down the route of absolute innocence, or criminalise himself to turn Hijikata into the victim?

Like he thought, this was definitely a pain.

A face appeared at his cell bars so Gintoki replied with the blankest expression he could pull off. The amanto snorted like a walrus, sending vapour of god-knows-what splaying everywhere and Gintoki had to hide a grimace.

“You're up next, Shiroyasha.”  
“What do I get if I win?” He obligingly heaved himself out of the small space and let them handcuff him without a fuss, sneaking in as big a stretch as he could to ease his aching muscles.  
“You get to keep your fingernails.” He was surrounded by at least three amanto with one to his back leading the way with less-than gentle pushes.  
“I guess that's a good enough deal.” Gintoki replied.

They meandered hallways to the interrogation room and it was basic: grey walls, a desk, two chairs, the occasional blood spatter for décor. Gintoki was seated (passive on his side) and the door was pulled shut with a very permanent-sounding _click_.

“I like what you've done with the place.” He said, looking round to take in the emptiness.  
“Please don't make this difficult for yourself.” The amanto opposite him said, softly. He noticed that the number of enemies had whittled themselves down to just two. His second enemy spoke in gruff tones:  
“If not, we'll start breaking things.”  
“Can I make a guess on who's the bad cop now?” Gintoki did often wonder if he should shut his mouth on occasions like this. He could practically see Hijikata by his side, jabbing him with a sharp elbow. Yet, knowing Hijikata would be just as stubborn in his place made him smile a little. He'd probably glare both of the amanto down with eyes like blizzards, keeping his chin high in their air and swear words perched on the end of his tongue.  
“Something funny?” The slighter amanto asked. He didn't seem amused himself. Gintoki chose not to reply in this case and it probably served him well, since whenever he opened his mouth, people tended to get angry at him (for some reason). “First, let us confirm that you are the shiroyasha?”  
“Sakata Gintoki is the name.”  
“But you are, in fact, the shiroyasha?”  
“People have called me hundreds of things. I haven't copyrighted any of it.”  
“Can you give me a straight answer for the recording?”  
“If Sakata Gintoki is the Shiroyasha, then yes, I am.” Gintoki eyed the device beside them with distaste. He didn't like being recorded: it didn't give him much leeway. If he fucked up, it'd be extremely irreversible.  
“If that's true, then there's not much to discuss. You were already put up for trial and sentenced to death. If you have escaped your punishment, that is an injustice.” Gintoki's wrists began to burn under his handcuffs. “However, for the sake of a fair trial, we need to talk about what happened after that point.”  
“There's not much point if you're going to knock me off anyway.”  
“Like I said,” the good cop flipped through a few pages in front of him until he found the one he was searching for, “you're up for re-trial and it's my job to make sure we have enough information for a fair trial.”

As the man lowered his head to scan through the white sheet on his desk, Gintoki let slip a shaky breath. It was rare for him to be so discomposed. He placed blame with the face of Hijikata in his head – just knowing what his death would do to him … The kids were young, they'd live to forget him. They had a tight-knit of family around them: Otose, Otae, even Sadaharu. Without him, they'd be fine, eventually. But as he imagined his head rolling to the floor, the one thought he couldn't shake was his frail, shattered partner. And as he chewed on his lip, he began to realise that he wasn't thinking about Hijikata at all – he was thinking about himself. How much _he_ wanted to be there. How much _he_ wanted to live. He still had so many hours he wanted to spend with him.

He had changed. He couldn't accept death any more.

But it was unacceptable for him to put the shinsengumi at risk.

“Can you confirm that you know members of the shinsengumi on a personal level?”  
“...Yes.”

* * *

 

  
It was a dark night. The glow of the moon was almost completely blocked out by thick, black clouds, laid across the sky like a suffocating blanket around the earth. Hijikata was still awake. It was getting closer to morning than evening; he hadn't slept yet. Not that he had tried.

Three days ago, the message came through. And not without trying his hardest to change things, the date still sat before him, solid and unwavering. The paper, without a single crinkle or tear, laid on his desk, the date flashing black numbers that burned into his brain.

He stared at it, unable to absorb the information.

His door was wide open to let in fresh air, yet he hadn't touched a single cigarette. Not today; not for the last three days. He didn't know what he was flushing from his room, but it wasn't disappearing. It still hung around. Thick. Choking. Kondo had come in a few hours ago and made him promise to rest, but his eyes bulged in the darkness. How could he close them like this? He didn't feel tired. Every second of every day, he felt empty – not as though he was vacant of emotion: it'd probably best be described as feeling like everything had been sucked out of him. The futon was laid out, but since Gintoki wasn't laid in it, the comfort that usually sang him to sleep was cold instead. He didn't want to go near it. He couldn't rest knowing what was to come. If he slept now, eight hours would pass by and he'd be eight whole hours closer to the date.

He wanted to be on his feet, making changes, though he was frozen by the knowledge he could do nothing. People didn't listen to him until after 6am. From now until the morning, all he could do was wait. Why did people sleep? What a waste of precious time. He still had things to do, people to talk to, minds to change. And if he had to, he'd charge in there with Sougo's mortar and blast the whole prison into pea-sized shards of concrete.

The paper was still there.

He looked at it, willing himself to wake up. He had never considered escapism, never believed that anything could be achieved by pretending his problems didn't exist; the thought was tempting now. He was searching for a recess to crawl into in his mind and never return from. If he could erase the last year and start again, he'd pay any sum. He didn't even want to believe that he couldn't, because if that was true …

the 17th would come.

…

At some point in the night, the sun had risen and it was only when Hijikata heard the soft _shik_ of the door closing that he realised he must have fallen to sleep. He felt betrayed by his own body and immediately stirred. His eyes opened to Kondo frozen mid-step, obviously trying not to waken him. He had a blanket between his hands ready to cover him up, casting an awkward smile as Hijikata awoke. He realised he had fallen asleep right where he sat, directly in front of his desk on the cold floor. For a second, he was angry that Kondo was obviously attempting to let him sleep some more: how could he when the date still glared at him? That anger was quickly suffocated. He didn't have the energy to keep it up.

“You've still got time. I'll wake you up in an hour.”  
“No,” he got to his feet and waved away Kondo's offer. “I'm up.”  
“Tosshi … you look tired. Just rest a bit longer and-”  
“Today's the day, right? I won't be able to sleep.”  
“... Okay.”

Kondo was reluctant, but it was clear that he understood. Without blinking, Hijikata dressed into his uniform and allowed Kondo to open the door for him and lead him to breakfast.

Today was the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget you can catch me on catharsis-reindown.tumblr with password rain :)


	4. Dive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited

* * *

 

_[...the date of execution for the first five terrorists caught by SparrowHawk has been confirmed for the 17_ _th_ _of next month. A further 8 have received sentences ranging from 12 years to life imprisonment. For those at the execution next month, they will have the option of dutifully taking their own life with seppuku, or being hanged. They will also be permitted to see their families and give their last words in an unusual mix of amanto and human law. Expert in amanto law, Mr. I. Zak Knewton, is here to explain the slight variations in the Edo justice system and that of the Yellow planet, and why the decision to overlap the two has occurred in this case …]_

* * *

 

It wasn’t his sister's cooking that was making Shinpachi feel ill for once, rather the atmosphere in the room. He chewed lazily on the parts of the meal that he had cooked so that the inedible pieces stuck out as black char remains on the plate, though he really didn’t feel like eating even the good bits. Kagura's appetite hadn't been smothered - that didn’t seem possible - but she looked like she was sucking on a hornet's nest. Otae shared her meek silence with downcast eyes. In the distance, the sound of normality filtered on a light breeze, the quiet hum of chatter and traffic. They hadn’t spoken for a long time.

Hope was torture, but more so was the idea that soon, Gintoki could unfairly be prised from their family. Shinpachi truly believed him to be a good man; convincing the justice system otherwise was becoming an impossible task. On Katsura's instructions, the three of them had begun a petition to give Sakata Gintoki (and all other ex-joui) a retrial based on the Jus In Bello principles. Fighting the battle that crimes during war should not be judged outside of such circumstances had seemed like the perfect answer initially. Shinpachi came to understand that instead, it was Katsura helping them to feel better about the situation - less useless, in essence. He was giving them something to do. There wasn't much chance of them having any sort of impact. At least, not before the 17th.

The petition had, of course, been signed by any person who had been touched by Gintoki's light. And that was a lot of names. During the endless hours they spent finding supporters to sign the petition, Shinpachi was filled with pride by how many people loved Gintoki. The vast number who crawled out of dark corners and high places to give their support was astonishing, each of them insulting the man but still scrawling their name and telling Shinpachi where to find them if they needed anything else. It had been a traumatic experience, too. Already feeling scared and shocked, revealing that Gintoki was about to be executed to other people was like re-living that every time. Tsukuyo broke down and had to be held back from rounding up her fighters; Sacchan had gone strangely quiet, and Shinpachi got the feeling she was making shady enquiries of her own.

Now the hundreds of signatures were stuffed into an envelope and hidden in his kimono – he daren't leave such a precious item anywhere else. He liked to touch his hand to his chest every now and again to check it was still there. It was useless, he knew, but it was a start. Hope. And they were currently waiting for Katsura to make an appearance and announce their backup strategy …

If all else failed, it was not an exaggeration to say they'd break him out of there.

 

They would.

 

Katsura's appearance was marked by the shadow of his figure falling across the trio. Eyes rose. He was of course tailed by the unmistakeable figure of Elizabeth. Neither of them were the type to easily share a smile, but today of all days, such an emotion was vacant from their faces.

“I've been contacted by an ally to Gintoki's cause.” Katsura begin immediately as Otae gestured to the tea pot. He shook his head and continued. “It was a surprising connection, but not one I'm going to pass up on due to personal feelings. Not this time. I have come to request your aid.”

“There's no need to even ask,” Shinpachi tried to smile but the gesture never quite reached his cheeks.

“I'm asking because it will be dangerous. Too dangerous for me to involve you unless I really needed to. Otae … as their guardian, if you deem this too dangerous, I will understand.”

“Of course.” She nodded. “But don't rule me out of anything either.”

“Big sis won't be able to stop me.” Sadaharu nudged Kagura gently in support.

“...” Katsura sighed and let his shoulders drop briefly before re-adjusting his posture. “Then I will ask of you … Leader, you're familiar with the Shogun's younger sister, right?”

“Soyo-chan?”

“I … need you to get us into the Shogun's fortress.”

 

* * *

 

“Wait,” Kondo rested his hand on Hijikata's shoulder, “Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?” He was less than comfortable with Hijikata dealing with this alone and made that clear with his expression. Regardless, inside, Hijikata was on fire. And he was adamant that he was going in there. Behind that reinforced door was Gintoki, and no amount of chains could hold him back. His blood was roaring with adrenaline. Hand hovering above the handle to the door, he nodded impatiently but refrained (barely) from opening it until Kondo let go.

Into the bright whiteness he plunged.

God, it hadn't even been a week, had it? They had been apart longer before now. So then why was he running to the glass and hammering against it? Gintoki sat up, startled, and on the other side of the glass window, a horrified expression stretched his eyes wide.

“You can't come here!” He shook his head, anger ebbing into him. He stood up so violently that his chair skittered away from him across the floor. Hijikata hated that his voice was muffled through the glass. He wanted to hear him properly.

“I ordered them to cut the CCTV and audio. We're safe.” _Come closer so that I can see you._

“Just you coming here will raise suspicions, you absolute idiot!” Gintoki raged and refused to step closer. He'd put up a mental barrier and wouldn't shift even a foot past the line. “Are you fucking stupid?” Hijikata noticed a bruise on his left jawline and a cut in his lip, but regardless felt relieved. In fact, out of the two of them, Hijikata looked the worst: heavy black eyes, uniform he'd worn for three days straight now, and his usual V-shaped bangs appeared as though he'd slept in a wind tunnel. _I want to touch you._

“It's fine, Gintoki,” he reiterated and finally Gintoki seemed to take a breath. Then two more. His shoulders sank.

“You're a fool.”

“Who's the bigger fool?” Hijikata searched the glass with his fingers until Gintoki matched them on the other side. He wished for the glass to be thinner – he at least wanted to feel Gintoki's heat passing through. The centimetres of barrier between them seemed much further. Nevertheless, this was the best compromise he could come to with Kondo. They were at risk for even getting involved in this since their involvement with the Shiroyasha was already on record. Gintoki sighed and bumped his forehead against the glass, heaving a cloud of condensation between them and distorting his image. “Whatever happens, you're getting out of here.” Soft words barely filtered through the solid barrier. Hijikata hadn't expected a response, but was surprised when after a second, Gintoki nodded. “It all happened so fast. I couldn't hold onto you.”

“You couldn't have negotiated away this glass barrier, too, Mr Policeman?”

“I wish,” he snorted. Gintoki chuckled, the sound vibrating onto Hijikata's forehead and providing a warm buzz in his stomach.

“Jeez, what do I even pay you for?”

“If you _did_ paid your taxes, maybe I could have gotten us a better deal.”

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“As always.” Hijikata parted from the glass to open the small letter box sized passage which provided the only break in the barrier without a lock. Wordlessly, Gintoki picked his chair up and dragged it as close as he could get. Hijikata sat opposite and slipped his palms through the box until they met with Gintoki's warm hands.

Holding hands had never been a thing for them. Neither of them were that fussed. If they were touching, then they were grasping and pulling. They were moving, exploring. Anchoring their hands together wasn’t satisfying enough. The gesture meant nothing to them. It didn’t bother Hijikata in the slightest. It was a public gesture and that was forbidden for them. Even if they _were_ concerned with that sort of behaviour, it was impossible for them because of who they were.

That's why Hijikata had never imagined how gratifying it would be to hold Gintoki's hand. Warm, like his whole body, and strong. Those calloused hands he knew. Rough. And how Gintoki's fingers seemed to slot straight in between his own. That didn’t mean they'd go back to hand holding in the future. He still wanted to get rid of that stupid barrier, even if it was just to hit the bastard. It was only because they were starved of contact, and torturingly, this was all they could get. Like drinking raindrops in a drought. Gintoki leaned forward to kiss each of his fingers and then pressed their clasped hands to his cheek.

“If things don't work on my end,” Hijikata couldn't cover the break in his pitch and no doubt his hands were just as unsteady, “do anything.” He said. “Anything.” To which, Gintoki hummed but didn’t respond. His eyes were closed, as though he was only concerned with the heat of their hands pressed against his skin. “I mean it, Gintoki. Don't play the martyr. Not this time.”

“Can we talk about something else...?” It was the first time Gintoki had seemed tired in their encounter and reluctantly, Hijikata dropped the subject. “How are Kagura and Shinpachi?”

“As well as can be expected. I've not seen much of them but Kondo has been going over to visit a lot more.”

“Good.” Gintoki breathed into their hands and the clap of his lips kissing Hijikata's hand again was just as calming as the warmth it provided.

 

Hijikata let his head rest against his bicep, stretching through the claustrophobic gap as far as he could. “You're probably eating better in here.”

“It's a nightmare! No sugar in sight!” Gintoki wailed in true despair. “Couldn't you have brought something for me? A parfait? My last request?”

“Stop saying that.” Hijikata iced over and raised his eyes through his bangs. They made eye contact. The laughter seemed to melt away from Gintoki's eyes. Slouching forwards, Gintoki blocked himself off from conversation with his body language. “Don't sulk. We don't have long.”

“Just talk at me. That's enough.”

“I want to hear what you're thinking.” Hijikata shook his hand gently. “Hey.”

“I'm not thinking anything.”

“You're always thinking something.” He tugged on his arm again. Gintoki allowed Hijikata to play with his fingers but still remained silent. “Oi, talk to me.”

“...” Gintoki's head fell to rest on the table so Hijikata reached through his other arm to pull at his hair.

“Tell me what's going on in that head of yours.”

 

Though Hijikata kept prompting, Gintoki remained stoic in his silence. Maybe he didn't have anything in particular to say; maybe he had so much to say that he didn't know where to begin. Hijikata had never really minded that Gintoki was a quiet person. He could understand him even without words. There was so much buzzing around that permy head that even Gintoki couldn't straighten out his thoughts into sentences. Hijikata accepted that. In that moment though … he wanted to hear everything. Uncut. Raw. He wanted to hear his voice, his thoughts, those little connections zapping in his brain and the noise they made. It didn't even have to be meaningful or emotional … this silence made Hijikata feel like he was missing something, and if Gintoki didn't speak now …

 

He just wanted to hear it. Anything. Everything.

 

“Not yet,” he pleaded when he heard the click of the door, but he knew Kondo wouldn't be interrupting if he didn't need to.

“Come on, Tosshi.”

“Nice to see you, Gorilla.”

“I'd like to say so too, yorozuya, but it's not the same when you're behind bars. Tosshi, I've stalled for long enough already.”

“I-!” He gritted his teeth. Gintoki let go.

“I'll see you. Soon.”

“Gintoki!”

“Look after the kids for me.”

“I can't! I won't!” Kondo began to pull him away, trying to hush him from making a fuss. They were already pushing their limits. “You do it! They're _your_ kids!”

“C'mere. One last thing.” He beckoned Hijikata forwards and even if Kondo hadn't let go, Hijikata would have dragged him along back to the glass. Gintoki leaned forwards and whispered to him. “Don't forget that,” he added, and Hijikata had to squeeze his eyes shut to control himself.

“Let's go, Tosshi.” Kondo gave him a gentle nudge.

“Mm.”

 

He didn’t give Gintoki a reply.

 

He should have.

 

Oh God, he should have.

 

* * *

 

“I'm against it.” Kondo declared into the meeting room. They were not in the barracks, for it felt disloyal to make plans against the bakufu in such a place. Instead, they had taken residence in Otose's snack bar … amongst unusual company. The doors had been closed, the blinds down, creating a suitable air of secrecy. And betrayal. “But that's not going to stop you, is it Tosshi?” Kondo let his eyes soften, a mix of worry and affection swirling in them.

“Damn right.”

“It'll be your first real action since the incident and I'm not happy with you going into such danger. You're not as strong as you were.” Hijikata tried to reason himself out of the hurt that came with those words, but it was unsurprisingly difficult and just left him with a twisted expression.

“I'm still going.”

“And unfortunately, you know I can't participate in this.”

“I know. I wouldn't want you to. Whatever happens, the shinsengumi need you. If you get caught then there'll be nothing left of us.” Hijikata glanced across the table to another member of the discussion. “What about you, Sougo?”

“As much as I'd love to lend a hand to danna, two members of the shinsengumi going down for this would raise suspicion against us.” He swirled a glass of orange juice and shrugged. “Plus, if you're gone then I finally get to be vice-commander.” At that, Hijikata clicked his tongue.

 

A long haired terrorist raised his head to speak.

 

“I'm against collaborating with the shinsengumi at all. It's reproachful that you'd go against your beliefs to do this.”

“It's not against my belief.” Hijikata literally growled low in his throat. “I don't want to do this as much as you don't, Katsura, but I don't have a choice. We'd be too late if we took the official route.”

“I can't believe Gintoki got involved with you lot.” Katsura spat. Elizabeth popped signs around him, which he ignored.

“Katsura-san, Hijikata-san, please,” a be-speckled part of the group interrupted. “There's no time to argue.”

“I agree,” came Otose's voice, commanding even despite her calm tone. “You're planning to break into the Shogun's castle, for gods sake. And you're taking these two innocent kids with you. You both need to set your differences aside or give up on this mission.” She lowered her head before adding, “If you were going to risk these two, you know that he'd rather you not bother.” Kagura was about to speak up but a tap on her shoulder from Shinpachi caught the words in her throat. Otose continued. “That useless guy … you know what he's like. He wouldn't want any of you to get hurt doing this.”

“I can't stand by for a reason like that.” Hijikata made steady, almost challenging eye-contact with her and she did not rebut.  
“Then I suggest we get down to business.” Kondo unravelled a map of their target. “To plan how we're going to break into the most steadfast fortress in Edo.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get too into this story T_T There goes my free time.
> 
> Thanks for all your support so far! For your comments on here, FF and tumblr <3


	5. Night Owls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleeplessness

“Be careful, China.” Hijikata caught her wrist before she dashed away. Kagura snorted at him and stuck out her tongue so that he could see right down her throat, making a noise that reminded Hijikata of her stupid boss. “Just listen for one goddamn second, jesus, you miniature perm!” She shut her mouth reluctantly. “Don't take risks. This isn't our only way to save him. If it's too dangerous, get out of there. You hear?”  
“Stop whittling like an old man,” she pulled her wrist from his grasp with ease and took two steady paces forwards, swinging her umbrella up on her back with one smooth swoop, the evening light glowing around her figure. “Tonight we're under the full moon,” she drawled. “That means everything has a silver lining, right?” Tilting her head back to look at him, she bared her teeth into a grin. A second later, she was gone.

“She's really a tiny Gintoki.” Hijikata sighed. It was annoying, but all he could do now was click his heels together, overlooking the towering heights of the Shogun's castle.

Tonight the operation had been made as simple as it could possibly be: just Hijikata and Kagura were out. Any more people could raise suspicions and increased their chances of being caught. Kagura was under strict instructions to get in and out as quick as possible, only spending enough time in there to do what was needed and even so, if the risk became too great, abort. They knew whereabouts Soyo-hime resided and at this time, it was almost certain she'd be asleep. Kagura was their best option because she had sneaked in various times before, to the point where she was a familiar face to some of Soyo's closer aids. However, if she bumped into any one who was less familiar to Soyo's friends, Kagura would be in big trouble. Likely, she would be pardoned by Soyo and so it would only be brief incarceration until then, but the risk was if anyone considered her a threat or an intruder, she would be killed on sight.

There really wasn't a need for Hjikata to be there. Even if things did go wrong, he wouldn't know about it until it was too late. And if he got himself captured, too, suspicions would raise. That's why their plan was so simple, and Hijikata was only waiting there to ease his conscience. He watched the glow of lanterns flicker shadows across the castle grounds, to the point where his eyes were playing tricks on him. He was constantly alert and flinching at any movement. It was going to be an extremely long night at this rate, but he was fine with that. If he weren't here, he would be awake anyway, images of ropes swinging at the back of his mind. To be actively doing something, _anything_ , put him at relative ease.

Until now, he had only slept with guilt.

As often as he could, he slept at the yorozuya apartment too. At first, it had been awkward and he wondered if it was the right thing to do: a grown man sleeping alone with a minor around? That was something only an idiot would do. A permed one. However, the benefits he came to find through sleeping there far outweighed that initial awkwardness. The feeling of actively helping eased the shiver of constant, quiet panic. All the little pieces of Gintoki lying about to keep the man on his mind made him breathe easier: if he forgot him for a second, he was terrified of the guilt he’d feel. If he took a moment to relax, if he laughed, if he worked on something to take his mind off it – no, he couldn't. He wouldn't let himself. His mind needed to be focussed constantly, because he was unreasonably paranoid that his state of mind could influence the precariously balanced platform Gintoki was standing on.

And so there wasn't a minute where those ropes stopped swinging.

…

“Uh-oh,” Kagura tottered on a roof tile that slid underfoot. She rebalanced with ease but she was no longer a flash in the corner of an eye; she was a stationary target. She had to get moving again quickly. There was a nervousness in her gut that was unfamiliar. She had never felt fear coming here before: it was a trip she often made to visit Soyo, and never before had she been so alert and self-conscious. She worried about stepping under the light of the moon. She worried about the tap of her feet as she ran. Every tiny thing played on her mind; cautiousness wasn't a natural trait of hers.

She reached the outside of the building across from Soyo's room, faced with the two guards on post outside. The only other way in was to run through the castle and navigate her way down corridors. With that, there was a risk that she would encounter someone more dangerous in a confined space. This was the only access she had.

Her eyes ran down her figure to check she wasn’t bathed in any moonlight, shifting one foot slightly further from the glow of a lantern just to be safe. She was pressed as close to the building as possible, so that the wooden wall was flat to her spine. There was no better cover around here, but the darkness should hide her enough. Reaching into her boot with slow steady movements, she pulled out a dart and winced at the crinkle of the paper attached. All she had to do was throw this through the tiny gap in the door: Soyo liked the door leaving open during hot nights. Tonight wasn't particularly warm, yet Soyo had made it a habit to leave a gap anyway in hopes that Kagura would come visiting. This was Plan A, and Plan B involved making risky distractions which would put the guards on edge, so she hoped this would work smoothly. She rolled the fine dart through her fingertips, feeling the roughness of the metal grip and etching the memory of its weight into her fine muscles. She prepared to throw it … and waited. Waited for their eyes to wander. Watched their pupils with owl-like vision until both flickered away-

 _Fwooosh_.

The dart flew and shot straight through the gap, scrap of paper flapping behind it and the dart landed on target with a faint _thud_. One of the guards looked towards the sound but discounted it for nothing, to Kagura's relief. It didn't matter now though: as long as that dart came to Soyo's attention, she was safe.

She just had to hope the girl was awake, or at least slept lightly.

There was a flash of child-like hands and the paper was snatched out of the crack of moonlight cast over the wooden flooring. A second later, the same fingers pushed the sliding door ajar and big, innocent eyes blinked into the night. One of the guards jumped at the princess' arrival and knelt down to hear her words. With a nod, he left hurriedly and the second guard stiffened with new-found responsibility. Seconds later still, Soyo herself shuffled out, wrapped in her thick blanket. She wore the item like a woollen cape which pooled across the floor. After a few moments of conversation between the two, and the guard pulled an exasperated expression; he couldn’t complain under the puppy-eyes of the princess though. He nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and with a beaming smile Soyo began to wave into the darkness – Kagura's cue.

“Good evening again, Kagura-san,” the guard sighed as Kagura hopped past. “It is really not proper that you continue these meetings, princess.”  
“Kagura is a friend!”  
“It's dangerous! If she gets caught ...”  
“Kagura is a super alien girl, she'll be fine. If you'll excuse us ...” she slid the door shut.

Soyo immediately clambered back into bed and patted the space next to her. Kagura filled the spot where her hand had been with the warmth of her legs and pulled the covers up to shut out the cold night air.  
“The second guard will soon be returning with a pot of lemon tea.”  
“Soyo-chan, I'm not here for a chat today.” Their hands entwined under the sheets.  
“Not even for tea?”  
“Of course I'll take the tea!” Kagura affirmed. “Waste is bad.” To this, Soyo giggled and rolled over on her side to meet Kagura, nose to nose.   
“Your eyes look heavy, Ka-chan.” She reached up her spare hand to gently prod the darkness sitting beneath Kagura's bright blue eyes. The moment she did so, the darkness seemed to swell. Kagura lowered her voice to a whisper.  
“Gin-chan is in trouble.” She said in response to Soyo's soft, questioning expression. “He did some bad things in the past and now they've locked him up.” For a moment, Soyo looked pitying. It was only a few seconds later that something clicked in her head and shock dawned on her.  
“Not … SparrowHawk?”  
“You've heard?”  
“I've caught onto rumours. The castle seems to be hiding it from me. Even my brother avoided the question when I asked. He is greatly troubled by them and their methods. It is extremely difficult to go against the amanto, however, without damaging relationships.”  
“They say they're going to … execute him. Of course, I'm not going to let that happen!” Soyo's smile was fond, but haunted by truth: she knew how difficult Kagura's request was going to be. “So, Soyo-chan … I need to speak with Sho-chan.” Soyo hummed.  
“He may not be able to do anything. As much as he'd love to.”  
“If we work together, I'm sure we'll be able to protect Gin-chan!”  
“I will organise a meeting with my brother. However, please be aware that he must follow his duties as a shogun – this may mean his hands are tied. The General in charge of SparrowHawk is a very powerful man and it would not serve well to make him an enemy of Edo.”  
“I appreciate it, Soyo-chan!” Kagura kissed her cheek.

She had to hurry back as soon as they'd shared a small chat over lemon tea, and it was with regret that she waved goodbye to Soyo. There was just something so lonely about leaving the comfort of a friend behind and returning to the place where warmth had been sucked into a vacuum. She hesitated at the doorway. Soyo tilted her head slightly but before she could open her mouth to question Kagura, she was gone.

…

“You took too long!” Hijikata chided her immediately as she appeared.  
“Gin-chan was right. You nag a lot.”  
“People like you and him need nagging. And I'm not the only one that moans! That guy can whine enough to fill the Old Testament.”

Hijikata ruffled her hair with slight awkwardness and Kagura decided to let it pass this time. After all, she could tell he was trying to fill the gaping hole Gintoki had left. Rethinking that though, she decided to hit him after all.

“What's with the delay?!”

...

“This seems a bit much, doesn't it?” Gintoki spat liquid from his mouth, knowing it wasn't just spit in there. Down on his knees and hands tied, there was plenty he could do to pummel his attacker into the floor … but not much point in doing so. He could find hundreds of vantage points and had twice the strength and skill of his opponent; despite that, he took the hits. It was much easier to do so, playing the victim. Hitting back would only give them an excuse to punch harder. And the fists were landing hard enough.

“Tell uz where Katsura Kotarou ish and al stop.” The amanto shrugged, gleefully rubbing his bloodied fist against his shirt. He had a lisp and once Gintoki had noticed, he couldn’t help but be bothered by it.  
“You look like you're having way too much fun for that.”  
“True, I gets a kick out of beating ya up. But orders ish orders. If I gets the informashon, I stops.” To seemingly add to his point, he thwacked Gintoki across the cheek with an open palm. It stung. He'd had worse (Hijikata could slap like an angry salmon).  
“How the hell am I meant to know where he is? I've been locked in here for god knows how long.”  
“You'z his friend, right?”  
“He blew up a truck full of strawberry milkshake once. Nobody who does that is a friend of mine.” THWACK. Gintoki's smart comments halted abruptly. He could feel himself shutting down: he wasn't feeling faint – it was a defence mechanism of his. He'd been tortured before: proper torture, not this low level spanking. Something like that left scars on your brain and each and every one of them had begun to throb steadily. His eyes lost their focus; his thoughts became distant. Sounds in his ears were like the soft distortion of the waves in a sea shell.  
“Where can we find Katsura Kotarou?” The amanto asked again. A deep breath temporarily brought Gintoki back over the edge.  
“I don't know.” SMACK.  
“Where ish his hideout?”  
“I don't know.” CRACK.  
“The next time you zay that, I breakz yous fingers.”  
“I don't know.” The fist before him raised high and Gintoki braced himself for the hardest hit yet, but it never came. He vaguely noticed someone else in the room and they spoke first to the other amanto, and then to him. His head dropped forwards, eyes closed.  
“We know torture won't work on you, Shiroyasha.” The voice said, honey-thick waves trickling through his ears. “There's a whole file on that.” Gintoki forced himself awake again with another sharp breath, blinking quickly. “So instead … how about we postpone your death sentence in return for our answers? It's not like Katsura will be caught because of anything you say. Just a little bit of information from you and we'll give you a few more days to live. How about it?”

And in Gintoki's head, Hijikata's desperation reached out to him. Fingertips pressed white against glass. Hands reached through to touch him. The red string of blood steadily trickling over his finger tugged his hand back home.

…

It was hard for Hijikata to carry on his work as normal with all that was going on. How was he supposed to get Gintoki off his mind for even a minute, enough to concentrate on anything? Somehow he was stumbling through the day, pretending everything was fine. He could console himself with last night's success, but then he'd only become more stressed when the other part of his brain whispered to him – _that hasn't changed anything. He's still going to die._

Kondo was managing to tone down the pitiful glances and he had only caught one so far. There were no 'are you sure you're okay?' interrogations, and Hijikata was sickeningly thankful for that. He could not deal with those conversations right now. Of course he wasn't okay. So what? No one could change anything. Hijikata hissed air through his nose and shook his hands, trying to rid them of the tremors shaking him. He reached for a cigarette but could only throw it to the floor in anger: how could he smoke at a time like this? It felt like out-right betrayal to Gintoki. And without even a trace of nicotine to subdue his nerves, they kept escalating. Throbbing. Rising sky high with no outlet.

“Are you-”  
“FINE!” Hijikata cut Yamazaki off with a yell loud enough to scatter the pigeons tottering around the yard.   
“... I was going to ask if you're going to drink that ...” Yamazaki flinched, gesturing to the coffee that Hijikata hadn't even noticed was there. The bubbling rage in him subdued to despair. That white hot stress at the back of his head evaporated into a cold emptiness. His head fell into his hands, rigid fingers piercing the sharp rainbows of his nails into his scalp. When he looked at the mess of so-called _work_ on his desk, he crashed.  
“Vice commander … Are you-?”  
“Yeah, leave it there. I'll drink it.”  
“No, this time I was actually going to ask if you're okay. You're really pale. Did you sleep at all last night?” A muffled affirmative vibrated through Hijikata's palms. His subordinate huffed, getting down onto his knees next to his commander and sliding his arm around his back. “I'll finish this. C'mon.” Scarily obedient, Hijikata let Yamazaki take his weight and lift them up. “You'd put some weight on recently and now it's all gone.”  
“... zaki?”  
“Yes?”  
“What did Gintoki do … when I wasn't here?” Yamazaki managed to grab the futon with his spare hand and used his feet to flatten it across the floor.  
“Do you really need to know?” Hijikata let himself be lowered onto the futon and was grateful to finally rest his head. He could feel his eyelids growing heavier already.  
“I just can't stop thinking about it.” He seemed reluctant to get onto this subject, but eventually Yamzaki sighed.  
“He went quiet.” He paused, obviously remembering the time. “The usually loud, playful danna went quiet.” Hijikata wasn’t particularly surprised by this: maybe a year ago his jaw would have hit the floor, but now he'd seen the Gintoki before daylight. He knew the eerie silence and distance stares, those lips that could not be prised open. “And you're doing the same. You, who can work through anything, can't even put pen to paper. The Hijikata who was calm and steadfast through all adversity has been shaken to the core. So listen to me and rest your eyes for a few hours; wake up the commander we need.”  
“We're running out of time though …”  
“So what? As you are now you're no use to anyone.”  
“Bastard.” Hijikata cursed, but knew full well that he was right.  
“I'll come back to wake you in a little while. Until then, sleep as long as you need.”

Hijikata was so tired he didn't even hear the door shut. He wasn't scared of the nightmares of sleep: he'd seen them all before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the massive wait. Busy, busy. Also my brain has died a little with work.


	6. Flightless Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been a loooong time. And I apologise for that. I'll not spoil the story with an explanation so please, just sit back (probably re-read this shiz) and enjoy! Happy new year dudes.

“ _The recent DJS, or Deferred Justice System, has been met with public outcry as a petition signed by more than 8,000 people protested the innocence of one of the most notorious criminals on its list._

_Sakata Gintoki, one of the legendary leaders of the joui rebellion, has been supported by 8,677 signatures and vast public protests in the streets. This case is peculiar in that the Shiroyasha, as he came to be known during the Great War, was actually registered to have been executed for his crimes a decade ago. He was aided in his escape by his executioner, and lived on in Kabuki district since. Ketsuno Ana is on scene at one ongoing protest outside of the embassy for the Yellow Planet. Ketsuno Ana?”_

“ _Good morning. I'm here with hundreds of people protesting for a fair retrial for the terrorist, Sakata Gintoki – it's clear this man has managed to touch many hearts in the years since his apparent, lawful death. You are one of these people, aren't you Tatsumi-san? Would you care to tell us a little more about this man?”_

“ _I'd love to. I first met Sakata-san after mistaking him for a pyromaniac I had been chasing. He later helped me catch the real culprit. Initially, I thought he was definitely a dodgy person. But he’s kinder than he looks, and though he’s a bit of a weirdo, he has supported this town in many ways. He saved my boss by running into a house fire.”_

“ _A heroic deed, true. However, how do you feel about the murders he has committed in his life? Do you think it is just that he goes unpunished for his acts of terrorism?”_

“ _I don’t know much about the Sakata-san from the past; I can only speak for the man I know today. He is someone who will fight for something he believes in. I trust him.”_

“ _Thank you Tatsumi-san. I'm also here with Otose-san, Sakata-san's landlord. Do you feel any remorse for sheltering a terrorist?”_

“ _I regret a lot of things but that is not one of them.”_

“ _Were you aware that he was a criminal?”_

“ _I'd call him many names but I would never use the word criminal. I met him starving to death in front of my husband's grave. Of course I knew he was involved in the war some-how, many folk were in those days. He never told me himself but that much was obvious – he’s not an inconspicuous person.”_

“ _For what reasons can you justify saving this man?”_

“ _Each one of us have made mistakes. Gintoki is human just like the rest of us. He should be judged on his crimes of today putting politics aside, not for his so-called crimes during wartime. As far as I'm concerned, the only crime he needs punishment for is not paying his rent!”_

“ _Thank you very much, Otose-san. Now, I'd also like to add something to this broadcast. I have, until now, reported this story objectively. However, I am also one of the thousands who have been helped by Sakata-san. I will stand beside all of these people here today, and beside Sakata-san to assure you that he is far from a threat to us. He is a person who would go out of his way to assist another, and I believe it would be unjust to criminalise such a person who only ever fought for peace. Therefore please, everyone at home, listen to your hearts. I have no doubt that we have all been helped in some way by Sakata Gintoki, so-”_

“ _Thank you, Ketsuno Ana-san. We'll hear more from this report later in the day.”_

 

The video feed cut back to the newsroom and the conversation was swiftly changed. Shinpachi whistled, barely concealing a delighted grin as he pushed up his glasses.

 

“Do not let Gintoki see that news clip.” Hijikata moaned, keeping a strict poker-face. “If he sees Ketsuno Ana gushing over him like that he'll be insufferable.”

“The old woman got her ugly mug on the telly!” Kagura danced across the coffee table and the glass creaked ominously.

“This is good news.” Shinpachi rubbed his eyes. “Really good news. We need to thank her. A hundred times. No, a thousand times. She put her job on the line for that report.”

“She'll certainly be in trouble later.” Hijikata nodded. He rose to his feet and adjusted his belt on his hips. “Good work, kids. Now, I've got to get to work.” A knock at the door paused his footsteps, leaving just enough time for Kagura to scamper ahead of him. She came back almost immediately clutching a scrap of paper with a grin.

“What's that?” Hijikata tried to look over her shoulder as she ran past, holding the paper at arms length gleefully.

“Two suns come. 20 hands when the three holly will be third from the east.” Kagura read. Her face screwed up and she read it again. “20 hands … third from the what?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Here, Mr Cop, make this make sense.” She thrust the paper into his face. Kagura hadn't misread it. On first reading, the crumpled note was meaningless. His police training whirred into action, beginning to pick apart the code. “It must be from Soyo-chan.”

“Two suns come, so in two days.” He turned the paper over in his hands – it was an ordinary scrap of a notebook, nothing obscure. “20 hands must be the time, 20 hundred hours. The three holly represent the Shogun - Tokugawa's emblem is the three hollyhock. Third from the east must be the room or window he will be in.”

“That's the most useful thing you've ever done.” Kagura tapped his shoulder and then danced off with the paper.

“The day after tomorrow at 8 o'clock, the Shogun will be in the third room from the east.” Hijikata repeated, mostly for himself. Shinpachi chewed his lip nervously. “Get me in touch with that terrorist.”

 

* * *

 

Power play, that’s all this was.

Hijikata sat drumming his fingers in what was suspiciously close to an interrogation room. Though larger and cleaner than any interrogation room he’d ever had the experience of, it was clear that the intention was the same: a bare room, plain painted walls, one desk and two chairs – seated opposite, of course. There was even a bright, white desk lamp, just to punctuate the effect. It definitely did not ring with the friendliness that his last minute _invitation_ had possessed. He assumed that Kristen's assistant had sent the summoning which brought him to the ambassador's office. Of course, it could also be that the General of SparrowHawk and the man who had incarcerated Gintoki genuinely liked to end his letters with, 'kind regards' and 'I look forward to meeting with you soon' written in pretty, looped handwriting. Hijikata scoffed loudly into the empty room. He had almost turned down the invitation with a similarly patronising reply. He'd written it, too. Instead, the letter had been ripped up. There's no way he could act as recklessly as usual when Kristen had the key to Gintoki's cell.

He wasn’t used to acting this responsibly.

In any case, this whole situation had been framed to make Hijikata feel intimidated. The so-friendly-it-was-threatening last minute 'invitation', the hostile room set up and now he had clocked 30 minutes in this room waiting for the man of the moment to make his entrance. The grandfather clock in one corner of the room (the only attempt at décor there was) kept ticking on, literally ticking, and Hijikata wondered if Kristen had made an actual list of things to irritate him and was implementing them one by one. Power play in action. He wouldn’t be surprised if Kristen was giggling outside the door, wondering how long would be most effective to drive him insane.

Upon that thought, the door swung open so hard that it nearly clanged from its hinges. The force it hit the wall with bounced it right back to closing again so that the huge monster that had just entered didn’t need to bother with the gesture. Hijikata tried to hide the fact that he jumped out of his skin. At this point, he was making a bitter and ever-growing list of things to hate this alien creep for. Hijikata made a point to ignore ceremony and stay seated at his arrival. He didn’t need to suck up to this man and play the fool – they both knew the situation.

 

“Vice commander of the Shinsengumi.” Kristen threw the opposite standing chair back and dropped into it - it creaked in agony under his massive stature. He made the statement rhetorically, not as a greeting.

“General of the anti-terrorist organisation SparrowHawk.” Hijikata threw back, his blood already at boiling point. Kondo had been petrified about this meeting – and he had every right to believe this encounter wouldn’t be all smiles and pleasantries. Hijikata would not make this meeting easy for Kristen. He didn’t like to play political games, but it was becoming apparent that the general did.

“Okay, let's get down to it. Unfortunately I have another meeting in twenty minutes so this'll have to be brief. I came to discuss with you your relationship with the Shiroyasha, as I'm sure you're aware.”

“Oh, did you.”

“Your eyes are just as I'd heard.” Kristen had the audacity to chuckle, the slash of bared grey skin on his chest bubbling grossly as he did. “It's like looking at wildfire.”

“Is that funny?”

“Is it not? Alright. Let's not skip around the subject. There's plenty of evidence - CCTV, written documents, eyewitness account, you name it – to show that you and the Shiroyasha are in some sort of relationship.” Hijikata kept his mouth firmly shut. “And also that the Shinsengumi have been working with him for many years.” He left the conversation there, waiting for Hijikata to respond. He'd be waiting for a long time. The _wildfire_ was burning as bright as the light-bulb melting the table, and it didn’t avert eye contact for one second. Kristen eventually sighed and his tone dropped down an octave.

“I can see this won't be done diplomatically. But I knew that anyway. Hijikata, what sort of a relationship did you and the Shiroyasha have?”

He shrugged and slouched further into his seat. “No comment.” Hijikata was sure he saw the ambassador's eye twitch in irritation, but it was well hidden.

“Enough with the smart comments. Just to remind you, I hold his life in my palms right now. So, fill me in. I'm curious. Are you gay?” He leaned across the table to sneer at the vice-commander. Hijikata couldn’t help but stiffen his folded arms. “The stoic, violent demon commander ... Is the Shiroyasha your lover? Come on, tell me. This isn't an interview. You're not being recorded. I just want to know, as a friend.”

“You're no fucking friend of mine.”

“But I imagine Gintoki is, right? A _fucking_ friend, I mean. You're round his apartment a lot.” He pushed further and smiled broadly. “Is that what you do when you go round? Is that what you like, a bit of a _bad boy?_ A criminal.” Hijikata was red hot and not just with embarrassment. Anger burned through his blood and Kristen was going to lose all his 42 shark-like teeth in a minute. The only thing holding him back was that rope again – he wondered if it would ever go away. Kristen was right when he said he could influence Gintoki's fate. He’d done enough to prove that so far. Could he get away with removing just a couple of teeth? Just a few? The Yellow Planet amanto grew teeth back anyway.

“You look angry.” All his control was beginning to pool at his feet and Hijikata was trying his best to picture Kondo with him, calming him. “I didn’t mean to cause any offence. I mean, I'm not against gays. I don't get it myself but I'm sure PTSD takes all kinds of sadistic forms.” Hijikata was on his feet, his chair scattering back and murder in his eyes. “Why don’t I get one of my men to find out? What it feels like, I mean.”

 

Hijikata's fist went cold and froze solid to his side.

 

Kristen's voice had dropped to a whisper but the words were just as potent. “I'm sure at least one of them would be willing to give it a go.” _No_. “Maybe the Shiroyasha is just that _good_. Maybe they'll be lining up for it.”

 

_No._

 

Hijikata saw it, his worst nightmares clawing at his brain leaving burning scars in their wake. Every night, the little time he had slept, Gintoki had hands on his throat. There were burning irons at his temples, and worse, worse, he watched his head dip underwater and never surface. His imagination was far too real, far too clear. Now, the image had warped. Gintoki was on his back, his arms were pinned. There were hands on him … He despaired. Even his imagination of the expression on Gintoki's face left him winded.

“You touch a hair on his head and I'll-” His empty threat was interrupted by Kristen's hearty, loud bellow of a laugh.

“You make it sound like we haven't already?”

 

 _Hold it together._ Kondo told him.

 _I can't._ Strangers were plugging Gintoki's yells with their fingers. Running their thumbs along his tongue. _I can't do it any more._

 _He’s winning like this, you can't let him win._ Kondo pushed further.

_He has Gintoki, he's already won._

 

Kristen smiled warmly at him. “Are we ready to talk now?” He didn’t wait for a response and Hijikata wasn’t even capable of giving one at that moment. “I'll give you ten minutes of contact with the Shiroyasha, without guards, without cameras … after those then minutes, you will give me the location of Katsura Kotarou. I don’t care how you get it, but that’s what you’ll do. You understand?”

“What have you done to him?”

“He's a tight-lipped individual,” Kristen shrugged, already standing to leave as though the matter had been solved. “So we had to keep hitting.”

 

Kristen was in the door way when Hijikata stopped him. “If I get you that information, you’ll leave him alone?”

“That's the deal.”

“If you're lying, I don’t care what happens to me – I'll kill you.”

“I don’t doubt you'd try. I'll consider my offer accepted if you turn up at the prison tomorrow for your ten minute meeting. If not, I can't guarantee how far we'll go for that information. I mean, he’s a dead man anyway.”

 

* * *

 

When Hijikata stumbled back into the shinsengumi barracks, Kondo felt like he should be calling for a tin foil blanket and a warm drink. There was no blood in Hijikata's pallor. Kondo had to hold onto him to get him to stop.

“What happened, Tosshi?” He kept his voice low and gentle, like his voice could shatter him.

“I'm meeting him tomorrow … a-at the prison.”

“The ambassador?”

“N-no, Gintoki.”

“Why would he let you do that? What's going on, Tosshi? Hey?”

“I … need to be alone.” Hijikata shrugged Kondo's hand from his shoulder and walked to his room with the stride of a man making his way towards the chopping block. Kondo watched after him with pained eyes. He remembered the Hijikata of only a year ago … so much had changed. He hadn’t shown even a hint of himself from before the incident. The thin shell of Hijikata Toshiro disappeared around the corner and Kondo closed his eyes, trying to remember the young rebel he once knew.

 

* * *

 

When Hijikata opened his eyes, he was back in Gintoki's bed. He didn’t remember the long walk over to the apartment, but there he was. He breathed deeply to dispel his nightmares with the soft, familiar scent of Gintoki's sheets. An earthy deep sent, speckled with escapee sugar granules from every late night snack Gintoki had dragged into bed with them.

Hijikata turned over and tried to roll back time. Gintoki sat upright, stuffing his cheeks like a hamster with leftover doughnuts in the dead of night. Hijikata chided him for the second time for waking him up. Fingers patted his head, leaving a trace of white dust in their wake. He had long since washed them out. Then, the drowsy memory of hands tampering with his hair, making Vs into Ws and plaiting with a ridiculous amount of skill that left many questions unanswered. Hot fingers on his cheek, a thigh sitting across his hip, messy lips, breathy laughter … strange men holding him down.

Hijikata stumbled drunkenly on his feet to find his discarded jacket and wandered into the living room, back into the light.

 

“How did you get in again, you thieving copper?” said Kagura. When Hijikata glanced up, his eyes met with Katsura's and not hers. The long haired man nodded gracefully, enough so that his blonde wig shifted further down his forehead. Movement from the other side of the room attracted his attention next. “We'd just sent Shinpachi to fetch you.” Kagura's legs popped out from under the opposite sofa.

“And some curry.”

“He's not coming back with curry.” Her figure wiggled backwards until she could squeeze her head back out. “I can't find our business card.”

“You don’t have any.” Hijikata frowned – he didn’t know what time it was but it was definitely too early for him to be computing this. The blonde wig was adjusted back into position.

“That will be why I can't find any.” She plonked herself onto the sofa and faced Katsura with a bored expression – it was obvious whose face she was imitating. “We have a customer, Tosshi, sit down.”

“I don’t work here.”

“Oi, oi, little master. Do you think this life is a joke, eh? First you turn up late and now you refuse to work. Sit yourself down.”

“But I-”

“Sit.” It was with her own voice that she scolded him. Hijikata did so, cursing. “What can I do for ya, mister?” Katsura reached into his kimono and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“I've lost my pet cat, Joy-chan.”

“That sounds terrible,” Kagura cooed, “What does the little fella look like?”

“Like this,” Katsura produced a hand-drawn picture of a fat circle with two shaded ears.

“What the fuck is that meant to be?” Hijikata frowned, hoping that squinting would bring to light what the lines were meant to show. Kagura whacked him harshly over the head.

“Of course it's a cat, Tosshi! Don’t be rude to our customer.”

“Do you think you can find him?” Katsura feigned a sob.

“Nothing in this world is free, mister.”

“I can give you this,” he pulled a half-eaten sausage from his sleeve.

“Deal!” Kagura snatched the sausage from Katsura and catapulted herself over the sofa, through the doorway and away.

“So cheap!” Hijikata shouted after her. After it was clear that she had gone (from the distant sounds of explosions as Sadaharu chased after her), Hijikata ran a hand through his bed hair in an attempt to tame it down. A flick of dark hair still obscured his eye line. “Go ahead then, what are you here for?”

“I needed to discuss something with you without them here.” Katsura removed the wig carefully and stuffed the pink handkerchief back into his kimono. “It's me, Katsura.”

“I knew that, you fool. How on earth didn’t we capture you?” With a sigh, Hijikata stood up and brushed down his jacket. “Drink?”

 

Once they had re-settled with tea, Hijikata took a glance out of the window at the setting horizon. It was still light, and it would be for quite some time, but darkness was gradually creeping in. He warmed his cool fingers on the cup in his hands and closed his eyes. Never would he have imagined there would come a time where he’d sit and drink tea with Katsura Kotarou.

“How far are you willing to go for Gintoki?” The question finally came; his eyes remained closed.

“Stupid question,” Hijikata grumbled, blowing the steam from his cup into swirls. “M'not answering.”

“We need a back-up plan, in case none of this works.” He heard Katsura rest his cup down on the table softly. “You know that even despite all this effort, he could still be hanged in less than a month.” Hijikata didn’t want to open his eyes and see the expression Katsura was showing him.

“I'm guessing you have a plan.”

“I'd be surprised if you hadn't thought of one yourself.” _Then you should be shocked_ , thought Hijikata. Despairingly, he couldn’t find a way out for them. There were no plans. Well, none plausible. What sort of plan could there be that _didn’t_ require them using swords and throwing the rest of their lives away?

“Do you know of Tsukuyo-san?” The woman that was intensely in love with Gintoki? Yeah, he knew her.

“I imagine she’s rallying troops.”

“Only for the instance that we need to break him out of there.” He didn’t mention how likely he believed that to be. “Regardless, how are things on your end?”

“We're meeting the Shogun soon.”

“How soon?” Katsura pushed.

“As if I'd tell a terrorist that.” He sniffed. It was partly a joke, and he appreciated that Katsura also seemed to understand that. “I do need one thing from you.” Katsura didn’t respond, instead raising one eyebrow delicately as he sipped his tea. Hijikata took that as a nudge to continue. He forced away the two discerning, red eyes in his head, hid the twinge of guilt in his gut … “I need to know where you'll be in three days.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget you can catch me on catharsis-reindown.tumblr with password rain :)

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who follow my works I've made a tumblr yeeee~. Access with password 'rain' : https://catharsis-reindown.tumblr.com/  
> I will post some exclusive shorts on there, as well as updates and basic sh#t posting :))


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